


left you in the sky with the fire below

by hikaie



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Grief/Mourning, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-19
Updated: 2016-07-19
Packaged: 2018-07-25 09:24:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7527292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hikaie/pseuds/hikaie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You don't always get what you want in life. In fact, sometimes you never do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	left you in the sky with the fire below

**Author's Note:**

> I _know_ I said I was writing something happier but then, uh, I watched the scene where Sven/Shiro dies in Golion and this happened?

It hurts. That’s the first thing he’s aware of after the adrenaline wears off and his lion stabilizes. She’s open to him now, responding to his touch when he slams on the dashboard and activates autopilot. He closes the screen that shows the endless expanse of space stretching outside. With it gone, the room is smaller, and he feels more secure.

He _knows_ he’s been hurt worse than this. That he’s survived worse. His arm is physical proof. But something about this is viscerally different. The wounds refuse to close or clot when he puts pressure on them, and they still glow from Haggar’s magic. Shiro starts breathing through his teeth, short and quick. The pain ebbs away and he blinks spots out of his vision.

There has to be a way. He’s made it through so much to get here. He _finally_ escaped. He got back to Earth. He- he got back to _Keith_.

He’s the _head_ , dammit.

His fingers slide in the blood, there’s so much of it. It feels sticky on his hands, and he looks around for something to staunch the flow. He tries to move but it hurts too much, leaving him doubled over in pain when he tries to stand. The coms are silent, so he rips off his helmet and tries to focus on his breathing. With deliberate slowness, he undoes his armor and peels down his suit to press the excess fabric against the wound. It’s soaked through in no time at all.

Shiro fumbles with the dashboard, opening the viewport again. All of the open space is… terrifying, but beautiful. He thinks he wants to see it, right now. Just one last time. During the end.

He opens the recorder.

 

Keith wonders if he’s ever going to learn his lesson. The other shoe _always_ drops. Time is not on his side. Promises made to him always get broken.

It doesn’t even look like him. Which- the Shiro that had come back, hadn’t really looked like Shiro either. He’d just been getting used to that, actually, but here’s the Takashi Shirogane he’d known before, except not really. There’s blood on his fingers, and smeared across his torso, and congealed on his side. He looks maybe a little smaller, a little paler, in death. A little closer to how he’d been before all the fights had broadened his shoulders and sharpened his jaw. His eyes are closed, which is a blessing, but Keith wonders if they’d still be that steel gray or if-

“Let’s,” And that’s Lance’s voice, husky-broken and detached. “Let’s move him. Before…”

“It probably already-“ Pidge starts, but then doesn’t finish their thought.

Hunk is, of course, retching outside the cockpit.

“Lance,” And that’s him talking, though Keith doesn’t remember actively deciding to make his mouth move. “Get his legs.”

They lay him out in the hangar as best they can. Keith crouches over him and pries apart the fabric that’s crusted together with blood, pulls it into place over his torso. He looks incredibly small and young in the immensity of the room.

“How should we-“ Lance’s voice is quiet.

“An airlock, maybe?” Pidge proposes, though they don’t sound happy about it.

Keith looks at them sharply. “Absolutely not.”

Allura rests her hand against his shoulder blade. He flinches away, and she keeps her hand held aloft, blinking at him. “We can keep him in a pod, if you would like. Until such a time that we can find a planet-“

“Earth.” Keith spits, furious that she would suggest anything less.

“Until we can return to Earth.” She corrects, immediately.

He clenches his fists, an old habit. “I- have to go.” He says, because he can feel the prick of tears, the hot clench of his throat, and he can’t be here, not with them, _not with him_.

“Keith-“

He shoves past Pidge, out of the hangar. He doesn’t know where he’s going, just walks the halls in a blur of rage and grief, choking back his tears. Sometime after he passes the kitchen for a third time, he sits down against the wall, tucking himself against one of the long, curved columns and lets it overtake him. The pain from the day catches up with him, both physical and emotional. Life hasn’t been fair, and Keith has put up with _so much_ for _so long_ without wallowing in the realization. His parents, his entire childhood, the Garrison, Shiro- his life has been a series of tragedies, but he’d been able to prevent so many. He wonders about fairness and strength and perseverance.

He grasps for straws, shaking against the column in the dark.

 

He wakes up when Hunk tries to move him, lashing out. Hunk reels back, clutching his cheek.

“ _Fuck_ , I’m sorry-!”

“No, no, man, it’s alright.” Hunk tongues the tender swell of his bottom lip and Keith feels _terrible_ \- a new low, really, all things considered- because it’s already bruising. “Should’ve known better than to surprise a guy while he’s down and out. Just figured you’d be more comfortable in your bunk.”

And- _that’s-_ Keith feels shame run through him, quick and painful, as tears slip out again. (He’s surprised, his eyes had been so raw and dry when he’d slipped into sleep he hadn’t though himself capable.) Because- Hunk is Yellow’s, kind and caring and looking out for him even when-

even when-

“Oh.” Hunk reaches out, tentative, and when Keith doesn’t yank away from the contact, he pulls him into a hug. The embarrassment is largely outweighed by Keith feeling like he isn’t even in his body anymore, just a ghost floating in misalignment with his corpse. He doesn’t even reciprocate, just lets Hunk crush his sagging weight into him, muffling his sobs.

“I’m sorry.” Hunk says, and it means nothing but Keith nods his head. He’s sorry, too.

 

_He curls his fingers into his wound, using the pain to keep him awake and aware. “Though it’s been short, you are some of the finest pilots I’ve had the pleasure of flying with. Even you, Lance.”_

_He works his jaw. There’s so much to say, so little time. So he starts with the most important thing._

_“I love you, Keith.”_


End file.
